


Hourglass

by Alephyr



Series: DeathberryPrompts [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-685 (Bleach)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7968874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alephyr/pseuds/Alephyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One flick of a hand can change so much within moments and it is then new memories are born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to _Slow Down_ of sorts as it bears the same ideas and concepts used in both works. There are some references to _The Honey Dish Rhapsody_ novel.
> 
> Initially posted and submitted for deathberryprompts.tumblr's weekly prompt "memories" on my tumblog [here](http://alephyr.tumblr.com/post/150008084326/%F0%9D%93%97%F0%9D%93%B8%F0%9D%93%BE%F0%9D%93%BB%F0%9D%93%B0%F0%9D%93%B5%F0%9D%93%AA%F0%9D%93%BC%F0%9D%93%BC). Edited and finalized to AO3.

He wakes to the morning grayness lodging themselves to every wall of the compartment like a spider making its’ home in the dark corners of a room.  From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of light, flickering his head over—the soft sun rays seeps into the room through the cracked door.  It is soft with a slight sharpness much like the waking sun peering through windows using its’ sun rays as an alarm.

Ichigo breathes in, smelling the lingering morning dew in the air and wonders how it must look outside.  Right then, he imagines a scenario of several unknown named shinigami hanging around an apple tree, picking apples and throwing them at another’s face when a dumb comment was said.  Or sheathing their swords for a chopping contest.  Or bobbing apples in a wide barrel full of water as form of catching a break with good laughter for old times’ sake...

Where is Rukia?                                                                                                            

His gaze moves to the other side of the room and notices a lone sheet of paper laying neatly on the low table.  As he draws closer, he makes out the drawings of cartoony rabbits in the corner of a message—one with a mischievous-yet-happily-secretive look and the other disgruntled.

“Does she even realize how early it is to try deciphering?!”  With a hand on the back of his head, he blinks and sighs deeply before letting his arm fall to his side and settling down on the floor mat to do just... _that_ ( not that Ichigo would readily admit he doesn’t mind this kind of stuff, each time seemed to come with a surprise whenever Rukia did this ).  After mumbles of ‘ _so like this..._ , _this doesn’t make any sense!_ , _what was she trying to say here?_ , _huh?_ —’

> _Strawberry,_  
>  _I will be back soon.  Try to stay still until my return._
> 
> _P.S.  There’s something for you in the other room! ♥_

( Did she just use the other kanji to—! )  The exasperation mood goes by like the breeze with his vision tunneling on the last bit of the message.

Something in the other room, huh...?                                                                                         

What could it be?

Ichigo moves into the hallway, poking his head through the gaps of the sliding door of each room nearby until he finds it.  There lays a large soft crimson box neatly tied by a honeydew coloured ribbon on the chabudai.  Opening it, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Rukia’s gift being assorted chocolates, ranging from milk chocolate to truffles to chocolate-coated caramel and nut crunches.

Admittedly, though, he does wonder where she has bought them from.  He hasn’t known such different variations of chocolates existed in Soul Society like in the living world.

The quality of the chocolates will give him that answer, he then muses, taking one of the foil wrapped treats, revealing it to be a milk chocolate truffle.

“Huh, this is... delicious!”  With the first truffle giving his taste buds an explosion of creamy chocolate to taste, he doesn’t resist diving in for more of the enriched goods.  Ichigo feels his stomach grow warm the more he swallows the sweets, a pleasant feeling yet a nagging thought tells him he has felt like this before, however long ago.

And he remembers.  Fleeting visuals of _that_ day comes and goes by his eyes.  Just the mere thought of it crossing his mind pulls a slight smile out of him at the memories.  It felt just yesterday when it happened yet here he is nearly twelve years later...

Stepping back into the room he was in before, he plops the box on the desk - soft eyes trailing over the objects left other than the candle.  He spots some books tilted over unnaturally (as if a force shifted them and they fell sideways), papers tucked in between pages, stray ribbons next to the brush pen, then his hand brushes over the toppled over hourglass and he pauses—eyes deadlocked on the timepiece that he cannot tear his gaze away and some unexplainable magnetic force holds him in place.  Sturdy fingers slowly wrap around the hourglass to tilt it upright; the sand mills in a tiny spiral until it is back to the rhythm of being sucked through the narrow opening of time.

He feels the distant heat of the sun stretch over the back of his heels to his shoulder blades, the remaining grayness coloured into mahogany and teak the more the door creaked open behind him.

“Ichigo?”

Parting lips as he whips his head around to respond to the voice — instead, his overwhelming feelings silences any sound, widening sun reflected brown eyes as he takes in the astonishing sight basked in light like a goddess’ gift sent to his doorstep.

Rukia lets a fond smile gradually stretch her pink lips, parting wordlessly to show she knows how loved she is under the man’s hypnotized gaze ( oh, how she can just see the stars and his smile _dance_   in Ichigo’s now-glossy eyes ), her own eyes mirroring Ichigo’s captivated heart and it is the most _beautiful_ look she has ever given to Ichigo that it makes his body glow in warmth.

Dust pink colours Rukia’s cheeks and she tilts her head with a further upturned lip in one corner from slight embarrassment, her eyebrows scrunch together in amusement; strands of violet-highlighted black hair fall against her jawline from the head tilting motion and it is then Ichigo confirms he isn’t seeing things.

She knows Ichigo knows how hypnotizing she must look in his vision hence the slight embarrassment which she’s slowly coming to embrace from the other.  She then spots her gift on the desk past the other’s figure with a quick motion of her eyes.

“Did you try what I made?”

How does she go from looking like a goddess with piercing melody-like eyes and lips ready to devour his soul turn into a sheepish captain who looks small _again_ in that overlarge haori?!

“Rukia—,” he gasps out, blinking for his wide eyes to revert to normal although he’s still blown away, “you — _you cut your hair_.”

“Wh- what? Was that a compliment?”  Rukia crosses her arms across her chest amusedly and leans sideways to mock make fun of him, eyebrows wiggling at the other, the pitch of her voice rising accordingly, “I only went and cut it since I knew you hated it so much—!”

“C-Compliment, my ass! I can’t believe after all that time you grew out your hair and when I come back to see you, you—you _**cut** _ it like it was before!!

“—wait, _you_ _made_ the chocolates?”  Rukia almost laughs at Ichigo’s sudden dumbfoundedness.  Did he really think she has gone out to buy them from an expensive shop...?

“I... Yes, it was difficult, but I was able to find all the ingredients...!”  She says with gentle enthusiasm and pride on her expression, her mouth shaping softly into a happy smile.

There is a quick change of Ichigo’s facial features.  It is fond,  Earnest.  Reminiscing.

“Man, you know...,” he laughs faintly, the smile of tenderness still rests, head turning to look over his shoulder at the box of sweets, “this takes me back to that time when you made curry rice in the Fourth Division’s kitchens and- and I helped.”

It takes her a couple of blinks to catch onto what he is speaking about, flashes of that hectic day scurrying in her mind. _Ah,_ _right, when I made shiratama zenzai that mysteriously vanished after Kusaijishi-fukutaichou took it and ran off on me... Yoruichi-dono found the curry mix to make curry rice that I had Ichigo’s help in, as well. And then... and then, the rice porridge for nii-sama—_

“—nk you, Rukia.”

She looks up at Ichigo, clearly caught off guard, “...come again?”

Ichigo makes a mixture of sounds, stumbling from one to another, crossing his arms.  “I’ll- I won’t say it again!”

“What did you—  F-fool!  I didn’t catch what you said!”

“Then don’t be too damn busy daydreaming!”

“I was trying to remember!!”

Oh, _just_ **_step on me_** — ** _!_**..., starts a thought and he stops it before he accidentally verbalizes it.

He huffs loudly and reaches for the box then, taking it into his hands.  He plops a caramel halfway into his mouth when Rukia has moved over to where he stands, pulling at the front of his shihakushou down, a surprised noise hums in his throat at feeling Rukia’s bottom lip brush by his own only pulling away with the other half of the candy set in place in between her teeth that she bit to get.  Tips of his ears flush scarlet red much like the colour on his face; at a loss for words for a few short seconds, he soon chokes out, “hey, hold on! I thought those were for me!”

Swallowing her piece, she licks her lips clean and peers upwards with a mischievous glint in her eyes (with her own share of a light blush), “if all of them were meant for you that I cannot have, I would have said so as much, no?”

Much to her pleasure, he retorts back after sliding his eyelids shut he thinks is to hide his annoyance and closing the box’s case firmly drawing out the once again amused look on Rukia’s expression.  She lets a couple of words slip out without thought, then suddenly the other’s broad chest is right in front of her face when she blinks and stiffens out of habit at the touch of arms going around her form.

His voice is low ( not depressive in tone, anything but ) and she hears him ask, “when is the hounen festival?”  Such a sudden seemingly odd question, yet he seems quite... sincere about it.

“In March, it's still some months away.  Why?”  Calmly, Rukia relaxes into the comfort of the warmth coming from two different sources—Ichigo’s arms and the sun on her back—two different things yet the very same.

“Because,” he begins, taking in the fragrance of her newly cut hair he has buried his nose into with the downturn of his head, “I miss this.  It's been quite some time since we made some memories together, so...  When the time for harvest comes, we should bake some delicious apple pie and I can help you with it on how to make it since its’ the living world’s thing... But, anyway, uh...”

She hums loudly enough for him to hear but just low enough to not disturb as she has a feeling he isn’t quite finished from the way he was breathing.  Ichigo tightens his hold around her body then, his hand rests on the back of Rukia’s neck and catches strands of her hair ends in his fingers.  There is something he wants to hear again, and her, too, to hear his repeated.

“... Can you say it again?”  The inquiry nearly makes Rukia forget they are still standing, planting her feet harder to the floorboards below to keep herself from getting too relaxed and falling right into him.  She blinks away the wetness in her eyes ( she is captain now - she mustn’t show how easily moved she is ), a third of her face presses against Ichigo’s chest, lips curving into a blissful smile and she breathes, “...welcome home, Ichigo.”

“Thank you... Rukia.”


End file.
